


Objects In The Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

by petrichorishly



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode 4x07, Episode Related, Existential Crisis, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Late Night Conversations, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Needs A Hug, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-27 18:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19796725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrichorishly/pseuds/petrichorishly
Summary: You’re the Devil. But you’re also an angel.Lucifer contemplates just who he is nowadays. It leads to some rather unwanted revelations.





	Objects In The Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tarysande](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarysande/gifts).



> This is part of the Fearless Love Exchange and my gift to tarysande. Out of your three prompt songs I chose _Whirlwind of Rubbish_ by Toydrum and Gavin Clark. I was mostly inspired by the scene it goes with, namely Lucifer after he killed Uriel. I hope it doesn't disappoint.
> 
> This takes place during 4x07, after Chloe and Lucifer have had their talk on the balcony at Lux.

Three of the votive candles on the stand near the altar had burned out while Lucifer had watched them from his perch on the backrest of the second pew. A fourth one was just about to sizzle out into tendrils of smoke. The candles burning down were his only means of measuring just how long he’d been sitting there. He was just glad no priest had shown up so far.

The tall ceiling of the sanctuary was decorated with an intricate fresco depicting several biblical scenes—historically incorrect depictions, if one were to ask Lucifer. But there was one that stood out to him. It showed an angel, the halo circling its head offering a stark contrast to the dark wings that the angel proudly displayed. They were mostly grey. Insignificant among his brethren. But their color in combination with their shape …

 _Uriel_.

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, his hands gripping the wood of the pew in front of himself tightly. Uriel had died two years ago—no, he hadn’t just _died._ The ghostly feeling of something slippery on Lucifer’s fingers startled him and he let go of the wood, leaving it only slightly worse for the wear.

He had his brother’s blood on his hands for two years now but he’d upped the body count with Cain. The Devil had lived up to his reputation recently, hadn’t he? While he listed his sins, he might as well admit to being responsible for Joan and not even the Detective had gotten out unscathed, her life a mess, all because of him.

Just shy of four hours ago—at least that’s what the candles told him—the Detective’s offspring had nearly lost her life. Ponyboy had been there to kill _him_ and Beatrice had been caught in the crossfire. Fortunately, not literal crossfire. And Lucifer had been furious. Still was. Had the Detective and Dan not shown up when they had, Lucifer thought he would have done much the same to Ponyboy as he had done to Julien. The Detective’s thoughts about him breaking people’s backs be damned.

Then again, her words on the balcony of his penthouse had stirred something inside of him.

_You’re the Devil. But you’re also an angel._

He scoffed just as he had then. How could he be an angel anymore? An angel wouldn’t murder his own flesh and blood. Those were the Devil’s actions and they were the reason Lucifer was more than skeptical about his wings. They wouldn’t be there, if he were to look. He was almost sure.

The Detective had encouraged him to look. It was obvious that she thought they’d still be on his back. She saw something in him that Lucifer thought unwarranted. He wasn’t _good._ Just ask Daniel. Perhaps there was a spark of truth in the accusations the other man spewed at him lately.

“I know I did wrong, Dad. I do.” His gaze slowly wandered up towards the ceiling as he spoke. “Cain may have deserved to die but still it shouldn’t have been by my hand. And Uriel—” He broke off. Damn it, why was this so hard? It made talking to Linda seem like a bloody field trip. “I want … please, Dad, just … I want you to—just _do_ something, damn it! Make your move, make me pay, but don’t endanger those I care about.” He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his knuckles against his lids. “If the child had gotten hurt—or Eve … It would have been all my fault.”

All of it, everything that had happened since the stake-out at the docks had been his fault—letting Julien get away so he ended up killing Joan, breaking Julien’s back only to have Tiernan kill an innocent man in his search for revenge, and finally endangering young Beatrice. He let out a noise, half growl, half scream, his frustration and anger getting the better of him.

“I don’t want to be forgiven, Dad! I don’t want to set things right! I just want to know that I’ll be justly punished and that no one else will have to suffer because of me.” He bared his teeth heavenwards. “But you can’t be bothered, am I right? Well, I’m done second-guessing your grand plan, so by all means, if you want me dead or back in Hell, come and do it yourself.”

The heavy doors of the sanctuary squeaked on their hinges as they were pulled open. For just a moment, Lucifer thought his Father had finally decided to do as he’d asked, but there was no all-encompassing aura to whomever had just walked through the doors. The steps were hesitant, boots scuffing against the stone floor as they neared. Lucifer tensed but didn’t turn around. He knew who it was, anyways.

“Lucifer?”

“Hello, Detective.”

She reached the pew he was seated on but remained standing in the aisle. When she didn’t say another word, Lucifer glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She wrung her hands a little before letting them fall to her sides in a decidedly unsuccessful attempt to appear casual.

“You’re doing your title proud finding me here.”

“Sorry, I, um, tracked your phone. I went back to Lux after I left Trixie at the apartment with Maze but you weren’t there anymore.”

His shoulders relaxed and he resumed staring upwards at an imaginary spot above the altar. “Well, you found me. What can I do for you?”

Slowly, she slid into the pew, sitting on it properly. “I was thinking more along the lines of what I can do for you. You seemed upset after—after what happened earlier.”

“Upset.” Lucifer grimaced at the bitterness of the word. “Accurate, I suppose. But you needn’t worry. I am … managing.”

“I thought you didn’t lie.”

This time, his head snapped towards her and he wasn’t sure, whether his eyes had flashed or whether the sudden movement startled her but she flinched backwards. “That is _not_ a lie.”

“Sorry,” she said in a small voice.

Silence fell. Another candle flickered and extinguished.

“What are you doing here of all places?” She seemed genuinely curious but it sounded like an evasion, an attempt to distract from why she came to look for him.

Lucifer sighed. “Hiding. Unsuccessfully, it seems.”

“From me?”

“You. Eve. Any further assassination attempts.”

“Why are you hiding from me? Is it because of what I said earlier?” She scooted closer again. So close that her shoulder bumped against his knee. “I’m sorry, if that was inappropriate. I get it, I’m just human and I don’t understand the big celestial picture of it all—"

He interrupted her. “I cut my wings off, when I came to Earth. You saw them, well, you saw their replica. At the auction.”

“I … did. They were quite … I don’t even know how to describe them. Although at that point I didn’t believe they were real.” Chloe looked up at him, her eyes flickering towards his back for a second as if she expected to see them on his back. “Earlier, you said they might be gone. That you’re no longer an angel.”

“And you thought I should check.”

“Have you?”

“No.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Can’t bring myself to do it.” _Coward_. “I guess I fear the implications of them being gone but at the same time I don’t believe I deserve them still being there.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees once more, his head hanging between his shoulders.

“What would it … what would it mean, if they were gone?”

“At this point I don’t even know anymore. I don’t even know, whether it would be my Father’s doing or my own. And, perhaps, not knowing is a punishment of its own.” He paused, looking down at her, their eyes truly meeting for the first time. “For what I’ve done to Pierce. Julien. For what I’m still thinking about doing to Jacob Tiernan, once I get my hands on him.”

“Lucifer, I know you want to hurt him. I even understand that to some degree. But this constant _eye for an eye_? It only stokes the fire.”

“You think me a monster for even contemplating it, don’t you? So, shouldn’t I play the part and do exactly what everybody expects me to do?” His voice had risen slightly, anger filling him with a vengeance. “I’m no angel, Detective. Believing in right and wrong isn’t going to change that.”

“You said it yourself, you don’t know, if your wings are still there,” Chloe argued. “I truly believe they are. You haven’t changed—”

“ _You_ don’t know the half of what they represent. You don’t know anything about angels. You presume angels are intrinsically good, but would you say the same, if you knew that one was responsible for Malcolm Graham murdering two people?” Her sharp intake of breath at the mention of Malcolm made Lucifer halt in his tracks. He took a breath, choosing to look down at his hands instead of her face, and continued more gently. “Wings don’t speak of benevolence—if anything they’re weapons first. Weapons to fight for the one and only cause angels are meant to fight for: our Father.”

“Lucifer, I didn’t mean to hurt you by suggesting—”

“Oh, but you have.” Though the words were quiet, Chloe flinched as if he’d yelled at her. “Whenever you presume to know who I am based on what you think the Devil or an angel is supposed to be, that hurts. You thought me capable of killing innocent children.”

“What?”

“At _The Cabin_ , remember? You truly put more faith in some ancient scripture saying I bite the heads off of children than in what you knew about me firsthand. I was lenient with you back then for obvious reasons but it … stung.”

“I know I was wrong. I _know_ you wouldn’t hurt children. Now more than ever. I wasn’t thinking straight back then—”

“And I don’t fault you for it, Detective. I never did. You needn’t ask forgiveness because there is nothing to forgive.”

“Lucifer, I don’t think I can ever repay you for saving Trixie. Not just today but also from Malcolm.”

“I don’t seek _payment_ for that. I told you, I would protect her because I desire to do so.”

For a moment, she just watched him from the side, then she huffed out a laugh and bumped her shoulder against his knee. “This really isn’t the conversation I thought we’d be having, when I came here.”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Lucifer smirked down at her. “And what, pray tell, are we supposed to be talking about?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t plan much further than _ask him, if he’s okay and make him answer without any misdirection_ and I mean, I didn’t even get to that part.” She shook her head in exasperation. With a sigh, she got up and Lucifer thought she was ready to leave, but all she did was join him in sitting on the backrest of the pew, shoulder to shoulder. “You never really said, what are you doing in church? When I tracked your phone, I expected Vegas and not—” She waved her hand around to encompass the sanctuary with all its candles and crucifixes. “—this. Isn’t a church supposed to be … you know …”

He gave her a disbelieving side-eye. “What? Consecrated ground? I don’t hate churches on principle, Detective. Please, I’m not that shallow,” he admonished her but there was no bite behind it. It was just their usual banter. Somehow, that felt _right_ in a way that their conversation so far hadn’t.

“I didn’t think you did. If anything, you even encourage Ella’s faith at times.”

Lucifer grinned. “Oh, Miss Lopez could tell you stories about me and church.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.” He huffed out another laugh, then sobered a little. “To answer your question, Detective, I came here to talk to my Father. Or yell at him. Whatever’s easier.”

“You came to talk to God? Do you need to be in church for that?”

“No. Doesn’t matter where I am. It’s not like he’ll acknowledge any of it anyhow.”

“Then why?”

“Well, they _are_ His houses. They are a way for me to … step off neutral ground, so to speak. So, I came here to … to be tried. For my wrongdoings.”

Chloe’s eyes widened with incredulity. “ _Tried_?”

“It’s only fair, isn’t it? I punish humanity for their sins but who’s there to punish me, if not Him? The LAPD? There’s nowhere they could lock me up that I couldn’t escape from.”

“So, you want to be punished? For what?”

Lucifer’s eyes wandered upwards towards the fresco, not answering her straight away. When he felt her curiosity grow, he took a steadying breath. “He looks like my brother,” he said with a nod towards the grey-winged angel. “Uriel.” Chloe’s eyes followed his and she tilted her head a little, the purse of her lips suggesting that she was biting her tongue. “He’s dead.”

Her eyes immediately left the mural, focusing on him instead. “Lucifer, I’m so—”

“Murdered. By yours truly.”

_I didn’t see that coming._

And, apparently, neither had the Detective. Her silence was deafening and Lucifer almost wished she would just run screaming. But she stayed, her knuckles white as her grip on her knees tightened. “What happened?”

Lucifer grimaced and looked away and another candle snuffed out. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that he will never get justice as long as I go unpunished. And, so far, my Father has done absolutely nothing and I don’t understand why.” The crucifix above the altar mocked him with its lack of answers and he turned to look at Chloe instead. “Same goes for Cain—Pierce, I mean. Killing humans is taboo and no matter how old, Pierce was just that: human.”

“It was self-defense.”

“That’s what your little justice system says, yes. But my Father’s law is different. Absolute.”

“And you want to be judged according to it,” she concluded.

“ _Want_ is a bit of an overstatement. _Expect_ more like it. So, why is He still giving me the silent treatment?”

Chloe bit her lip. “Maybe He understands that you didn’t have much of a choice. And that’s why He doesn’t blame you. Neither do I.”

He huffed. “Even if that were true, it doesn’t explain why he never lifted a finger after what I did to Uriel.”

“I’m almost certain you didn’t just kill him for no reason, Lucifer. You’re not like that. You don’t need to tell me what happened for me to know that he must have done something to warrant this.”

_He was my brother._

“He wanted to hurt … someone.” He buried his face in his hands. Once again, they felt slick with blood and he shuddered.

_Where’s Uriel?_

In his dreams sometimes it wasn’t just his mother asking that question. It was Azrael. It was Michael. Gabriel. Or Raphael. All of them standing before him, the looks on their faces already suspicious of what he’d done. They’d see the red on his hands and immediately turn from him. Their sorrow palpable. Their hatred icy.

Chloe’s hand on his shoulder made him flinch but he hid it as best as he could. “I’m sorry.”

Frowning, he looked up at her. “Sorry? You’re not supposed to be sorry. You’re supposed to see that I’m—that I’m a monster! That I’m not an angel anymore!”

“I’ve killed, Lucifer. Does that make me any less human?”

He wanted to answer, to argue, but the words just wouldn’t come. Chloe’s hand eventually disappeared from his shoulder and he felt the spot where it had rested like frostbite.

When he remained silent, Chloe continued. “I’ll be honest, I thought you would go after Tiernan now that he threatened you.” The words seemed to be heavy on her tongue but the set of her shoulders was telling of her determination to address this.

And, after all, she was right. “I haven’t decided what to do with him, yet. But I called in a favor to stop his jet from leaving LA just three hours ago.”

“You what? He tried to leave? Where is he now? We have enough to arrest him, so I can send someone to bring him in.”

Lucifer chuckled darkly. “You want me to just surrender him to you? I don’t think so. Not before I haven’t decided what _I_ am going to do with him.”

Chloe’s lips were pressed into a thin line and she breathed in sharply through her nose before she spoke. “And when are you going to decide what that’s going to be?”

“Soon. I hope.”

“Lucifer, I know I can’t stop you. I won’t pretend to have any say when it comes to what you do but I’m serious when I say that this isn’t you.” She climbed down the pew and stood. “You can argue that point as long as you want, I know you don’t agree. If it’s my fault that you feel like—I mean, if my reaction to your truth made you feel this way, then I’m sorry for that. But no matter my reaction, it doesn’t change who you are. And I believe you’re a good man.”

She turned to leave and had already reached the end of the pew, when Lucifer spoke up. “You truly believe that? You believe me capable of good?”

Her eyes were unfailingly honest. “I do. You are so much more than just the Devil.” With a hesitant smile she nodded towards the entrance. “I need to get going, Lucifer. Maze said she’ll only stay at the apartment until midnight and I’d rather not leave Trixie on her own.”

Lucifer nodded, understanding her need to look out for her offspring, especially today. “Good night, Detective.”

“Will you—will you let me know what’s happening with Tiernan?” she asked hesitantly. At his nod, she breathed a little easier. “Good night, then, Lucifer.”

Her steps echoed a little in under the high ceiling. Lucifer hated that they were leaving.

“Will you stay?” he suddenly blurted out. “Just for a moment longer?”

“Why? What is it?”

“I’d like you to be here, when I—when I check on them. My wings. I don’t want to do this alone. Will you please stay?”

Chloe blinked at him owlishly. “You want me to—Lucifer, I’m not sure I’m cut out for that.”

He hummed a little. “It’s easier to pretend it’s not there, huh?”

“No, that’s not it. I _know_ it’s there. I’ve accepted that. It’s just a little mind-blowing trying to wrap my head around it all.”

“And seeing would make it worse. I understand.”

She bit her lip in thought. “No, you’re right. It won’t help, if I ignore it. But are you sure you want me to be your emotional support for this?”

“Why not?”

“Well, my emotions have been proven to be all over the place, when it comes to this.”

Lucifer shrugged. “It’s your choice, Detective. I won’t force you to stay.”

It took a moment but then Chloe stepped closer again and Lucifer couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. Her head tilted as she observed him. “Alright. Whenever you’re ready, I guess. Wait—” She held up both hands as Lucifer went to get up. “Maybe tell me what to expect first?”

“What to expect?” Lucifer asked, baffled. “Well, expect to see wings. White, feathery menaces. Although, nothing says there’s anything to see.” He stepped over the backrest of the first pew and hopped down from there, shaking out his limbs to get rid of the stiffness from sitting in the same spot for hours.

There was no going back now. No excuse to ignore the issue any longer. His gaze settled on the depiction of the angel once more and resignation settled inside him: whether or not his wings were still there, it didn’t change much. It would only bring a little more closure.

Once and for all, he would figure out who he was now after all he’d done.

* * *

His person standing before the altar was imposing in and of itself. Chloe wrung her hands nervously as she watched him take several deep breaths, his eyes focused somewhere near the crucifix that was the centerpiece of the wall. Lucifer glanced over his shoulder and, had she not known his tells, she would have never guessed how nervous he was. This was something big for him. Understandably so, she thought.

As he turned to face her, he clenched his hands into fists before uncurling the fingers again, repeating the motion in quick succession. “Alright … I’ll just—” He grimaced.

Chloe nodded, trying for encouraging. “Just like a band-aid.”

“A band-aid,” he huffed. “Let’s see how bloody the wound underneath is, then.”

And then he rolled his shoulders.

Chloe had convinced herself that she was ready. Ready to see them. No matter _how_ weird it would be to see her partner with actual wings. But their sight was a shock. For several reasons.

They weren’t white. God, no, they weren’t.

She heard Lucifer’s shuddering breath, an exhale that spoke of fear, maybe despair or devastation. But she couldn’t look at his face, her eyes glued to the huge wings that protruded from his back. They were dark red, leathery and _terrifying_. Their size was intimidating on its own but the _claws_ —each fingerlike bone ended in a horrifyingly sharp spike. Not to mention the additional one at the top of each wing. Curved, malicious … deadly.

“No,” she heard him whisper. “No, no, no.” His voice got louder, desperate now.

Chloe only now noticed that she’d backed away from him, the distance between them almost twice as big. For the first time, she looked at _him_ instead of those dragon-like wings and all she could see was bone-deep terror.

“ _No_!” He tried to escape them, tried to get away from them. Futile. They were him. He was the Devil and this was him.

Lucifer stumbled as he backed into the step that led up to the altar and the wings flapped vigorously in an attempt to keep his balance. He fell down anyways, his eyes fixed on the claw at the top of his right wing.

Chloe knew she stood with her mouth open, whether in shock or horror she couldn’t quite tell. Her left hand was gripping the pew next to her and she realized it was the only reason she was still upright. A small part of her wished he wasn’t freaking out. That would make this so much easier. But his horror only fueled hers.

“This isn’t—I’m not—” His voice was barely louder than a whimper. “But I am. A monster.”

That shook her from her stupor. “Lucifer—”

“This is what I am?” The wings flared out behind him—holy shit, they were even bigger than she’d thought—and he yelled, “Are you finally happy now, Dad?!”

“Lucifer, please … What is happening? Why are they—”

Immediately his eyes found hers and Chloe stumbled another step backwards. They blazed crimson, the fire inside them an inferno that threatened to leave her burning in its wake. It seemed like he only now realized that she was still there.

“Chloe … what have I …” His voice failed him, and his whole body shook. “What have I done?”

A sob escaped him and he wrapped both arms around his knees, his usually so imposing figure reduced to the smallest possible size, if it weren’t for the huge wings still towering above him.

But then he screamed. It was a terrible sound, however muffled by his own arms. Chloe could have sworn the ground shook for a moment and her hindbrain was left gibbering thoughtlessly. She should be running. Or maybe she should be on her knees. Anything would be preferable to standing frozen as the scene unfolded in front of her.

Before she could decide, though, his wings folded closer to his back, the claws at the top creating the illusions of horns above the Devil’s head for a moment. Then Chloe blinked and they were gone entirely. All that remained was the curled-up and shaking form of …

It was Lucifer. Just Lucifer.

Her right foot took a step forward, quickly followed by her left and before she knew it, Chloe was at his side. She didn’t dare touch him—Lucifer, for all that he loved touching others, wasn’t keen on being touched, especially not without warning—but she kneeled before him, trying to catch his gaze with her own. The fire in his eyes hadn’t subsided, the whites had turned almost black.

“You’re okay. Lucifer, you’re alright. I’m here.”

“Why are they like that? Am I really _that_?” He sounded so broken that, no matter how unnerving his eyes were in that moment, Chloe could feel her own brimming with tears. He was hurting and Chloe hated it.

“It doesn’t mean anything. You’re still the same, Lucifer.”

“I am a monster.”

“No, they don’t define who you are.”

“Of course, they do. They represent who I feel I am inside. And they’re _rotten_.”

Careful not to spook him, Chloe reached out to him. Her fingers cupped his cheek, her thumb just underneath his burning eyes, and held his gaze. “You’re my partner. That hasn’t changed. And we can figure the rest out.”

He curled in on himself a little further, his arms shaking from how hard he was pressing his fingers into his back. Chloe was at a loss. What was one to do with a terrified archangel? The Devil himself? Even worse, she was just as terrified. So, what now?

“Let’s go home, Lucifer,” she murmured. “Please, let’s just get out of here.”

Save for a hitch in his breath he didn’t react. She reached to take hold of his arm and tugged gently but she may as well have tried tugging on a rebar wedged in concrete. He didn’t move an inch.

“Lucifer, please, we can’t stay here.” Well, she supposed, he could stay here indefinitely. Not much anyone could do about that, if Lucifer didn’t want to move. “Please. I want to go home, Lucifer.”

She didn’t know why but that got more of a reaction out of him. He raised his gaze to meet hers and slowly the fire inside his irises dimmed until all that was left was their usual dark brown. Chloe tried to give him an encouraging smile but she feared it was timid at best.

“Come on. I’ll drive you.”

This time, when she tried to get him to move, he let himself be pulled to his feet. As soon as Chloe let go of his hands, though, he brought a safe distance between himself and her. For a moment Chloe thought he was about to run off and disappear but he remained where he was. Never letting him out of her sight, Chloe started walking and he followed, silently and subdued, all the way to the car.

He didn’t say a single word during the entire drive and Chloe’s head was still too busy compartmentalizing to come up with a safe topic for conversation. So, in the end, she stayed silent as well. It wasn’t until she pulled up to her apartment complex that he suddenly stirred.

“This isn’t Lux.”

She looked over at him, at the way one arm was still circling his own hip, the fingers clenched in the fabric of the back of his shirt. Holding himself together. “I thought maybe it’d would be best, if you didn’t spend the night alone.”

“You want me to stay at your place?”

“You can even have the bed. The couch isn’t long enough for you, but I can fit easily. I don’t mind.”

“Detective, I don’t—”

“You don’t have to.” Silently, she cursed herself for backtracking so quickly. “I just thought—do you want me to bring you to Lux?”

His fingers clenched tighter and Chloe swore he stopped breathing altogether, until, “No, I can make my own way home.” But he made no move to leave the car.

“Lucifer, do you want to be alone tonight?”

“I am perfectly fine, Detective.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He tensed a little, then huffed out a breath. “Sometimes being alone isn’t such a bad thing.”

“Lucifer.”

He stared straight ahead, a muscle on his temple jumping out once. Twice. And Chloe was vividly reminded of what he could do, if his temper got the better of him, red eyes burning before her inner eye. But Lucifer just breathed, then admitted, “I do not wish to be alone, no. But you needn’t inconvenience yourself for me.”

At last, an answer. Although, a heart-breaking one. “Lucifer, please … you’re hurting. And I’m offering to help. Please let me. I won’t force you, but I really don’t want to leave you alone while you’re this upset. I—I’m scared, Lucifer.”

He flinched and his free hand immediately reached for the handle of the door. “Apologies, Detective—”

“No,” Chloe intervened, her fingers around his wrist, holding him back. “No, Lucifer. Not scared _of_ you. Scared _for_ you.”

“Pardon?”

“Lucifer, I—I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Please,” she pleaded, tears brimming in her eyes, “please, don’t hurt yourself.”

He tilted his head to the side, perplexed. Then his expression that until now had been deceptively blank softened into devastation. “Don’t cry, Detective. It’s alright.” The hand that had been clenched in his shirt was suddenly hovering near her cheek, hesitant and unsure whether he was allowed to touch. Chloe covered it with her own and pressed it against her own cheek. “Detective … I’m not hurt. It’s just these—these vile wings—my Father—”

“They’re not vile. Lucifer, you’re not a monster.”

“I look the part.”

“But you’re not. Think of what you did for Trixie.” The tears were freely flowing now, disappearing between his fingers.

“Why are you crying, Chloe? You don’t need to shed tears for me. What can I do?”

“Stay the night. Please. And we’ll talk about this in the morning. We’ll call Linda. I’m sure she can help. Just, please, stay.”

His nod made her breathe easier and she smiled at him through the tears. She motioned towards the apartment complex, trying to convey that they should get inside, and Lucifer followed suit, when she got out of the car. When he stood, his arm immediately wrapped around his hip again. Chloe didn’t think he knew he was doing it.

Once inside her apartment, Chloe flicked on the lights. Maze was nowhere in sight—it was a few minutes past midnight, so Chloe hadn’t expected anything else—so Chloe hurried to check on Trixie, quietly sliding open the door to her room. Lucifer remained near the door, seemingly at a loss for what to do with himself.

Trixie lay curled up in her blankets, a nightlight glowing on her nightstand. The little girl hadn’t needed the nightlight a lot lately, but it brought her comfort still, especially after events such as the one that had transpired earlier that night. Chloe carefully made her way over to the bed, gently caressing her daughter’s cheek for a moment before pressing a light kiss to her forehead. The girl was fast asleep and didn’t even stir. In a way, Chloe was glad that Trixie didn’t seem too shaken by it all. Still, Chloe swore to talk to her about it the next day.

When she emerged from Trixie’s room, Lucifer was exactly where she’d left him by the door. “Hey,” she said and stepped closer. “You okay?”

His unfocused eyes swiveled over to her and he opened his mouth a couple of times before actual words came out. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Do you need anything? Or do you just want to go to sleep?”

“I don’t think I can sleep.”

“Let’s sit down for a moment, then, okay?” She reached for his arm and he let himself be guided towards the couch. Once sitting, he curled in on himself like he had in the car. One arm reaching across his shoulder, the fingers curled into his shoulder blade. “Tell me what I can do?”

“There’s nothing you can do, Detective. It is what it is. Or rather, I am what I am.”

“You’re not a—”

“Don’t deny it,” he cut her off harshly. “I am a murderer and a villain. I killed Uriel and Cain and Joan and—”

“You didn’t kill Joan.”

“I might as well have. If I hadn’t let Julien get away, he wouldn’t have shot her. And if I hadn’t broken Julien’s back, the man Tiernan killed in my stead would still be alive.” He shook his head. “It’s true. Wherever I go I bring death and destruction.”

“That’s not true and you know it. Look at me,” Chloe demanded and reached out to pry his fingers loose. “You can’t take responsibility for other people’s actions. And you have saved so many lives, Lucifer. Mine included. You’re not a monster.”

He didn’t say anything in response, instead he freed his hand from Chloe’s grip and shrank away from her.

“Lucifer, you’re not evil. That’s what you’ve told me from the beginning.”

Silence.

“We can fix this. Whatever you need from me, I can—”

“I don’t want to discuss this any further, Detective.” She almost didn’t catch his words as quiet as they were spoken. They left no room for arguments, though, and Chloe knew better than pushing.

“Okay. Okay, then … you’ll stay, though, right?”

“… I suppose so.”

“I can take the couch, let me just get some sheets.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Detective. Go ahead, get some sleep. I’ll be here.”

“Are you sure? I can stay up with you, if that’s what you want.”

“No need. I think I … need the time on my own. To think.”

She nodded but her brows knit together in concern. “Okay, I’ll go upstairs and try to get some sleep, then,” Chloe said. “But you’ll come wake me, if you need something. Anything. Lucifer, I mean it. Even if you just want me to sit with you.” Lucifer winced a little but otherwise didn’t acknowledge her. “Lucifer, please. Promise me.”

“Detective …”

“Promise me, you’ll wake me, if you need me.”

For the longest moment, he didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at her as if she’d lost her marbles, but then he slowly inclined his head. “I give you my word, Detective.”

“Thank you.”

She lay awake for what felt like hours after leaving him downstairs, staring at the ceiling in the low light of the streetlamps outside. Several times she contemplated going back down to sit with him through the night but ultimately decided against it; he needed the space just as much as he needed to not be all alone. When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of him.

Her beeping alarm woke her unceremoniously and she blindly slapped her nightstand until she found and silenced it. For a few moments she lay still, bracing herself for the day ahead of her, but her eyes snapped open, when she heard a muffled giggle from downstairs.

Frowning, she went to investigate.

Coming down the stairs, she heard Lucifer’s distinct however exasperated voice. “Oh, woe is me, Beatrice. How is it done, then?”

“Each card has one little image in common. That’s what you’re supposed to look for.”

“That seems awfully simple.”

“It’s not. There’s no way to cheat ‘cause no card is the same. No patterns, see?”

Even from where Chloe stood behind the corner, she could hear Lucifer’s breath hitch. “Patterns are tricky like that,” he hummed, then cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t you rather have breakfast, child?”

Chloe steeled herself, then rounded the corner, taking in her daughter and Lucifer on the floor, the game of _Spot It_ between them, the cards in total disarray. “You two are up early,” she said in greeting and watched Trixie’s face light up.

“Mommy, I’m teaching Lucifer the rules so we can play it the next time we have a game night.”

Ah, right. Game night with the Devil used to be a thing. That was before her partner had grown terrifying dragon wings, though, and Chloe was under the impression that neither her nor Lucifer were ready for that at the moment.

Lucifer cleared his throat in the awkward silence that had settled between them. “Well, I tried to persuade the urchin to have breakfast instead but she seems very intent on boring me to death.”

Chloe couldn’t hide a smile as Lucifer stood and brushed off his shirt with unnecessary diligence. She turned to face her daughter. “Trix, have you packed your bag for school? Or would you rather not go today?”

“I do want to go,” Trixie affirmed quickly.

“So, have you packed your bag?”

“… Yes.” There was enough hesitation in that one syllable that Chloe knew her daughter was lying. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and raised a disapproving eyebrow at Trixie, who quickly got up and scrambled towards her room.

That left Chloe and Lucifer alone in the living room.

“I’m glad you’re still here.”

The look in his eyes was one of honest confusion. “I said I’d stay the night. You know my word is my bond.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Lucifer rubbed one hand across the back of his neck. “Do you at least want breakfast?”

“Only if it includes coffee.”

“You got yourself a deal, Detective.”

As Lucifer prepared breakfast—bacon and eggs, seeing as Chloe didn’t have much else in her fridge—Chloe packed a lunch for Trixie. They worked silently side by side, only glancing at each other every so often. Chloe sent Trixie on her way not much later, a second cup of coffee already in hand, and gave her a note for her teacher in case Trixie changed her mind and wanted to come home early.

When Chloe turned back to Lucifer after sending her daughter off, his eyes were fixed on the closed door, his shoulders tense. “Hey, everything okay?” Chloe asked.

“Will she be safe?”

“Yes, Lucifer. She will be fine,” Chloe assured him but something in her chest ached as he voiced her exact fears like that.

“She shouldn’t have been—I never meant to put her in danger, Detective.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Lucifer.”

“Tiernan sent Ponyboy after me because of what I did to Julien McCaffrey. So, yes, it _was_ my fault.”

Chloe swallowed hard and set her mug down. “That’s what you think, so that’s why your wings look the way they do?”

“What?”

“That’s how it works, isn’t it? You see yourself as a monster—”

“—and a monster I become,” he nodded grimly. “Essentially, yes.” His shoulders slumped. “You shouldn’t have had to see that. I’m sorry, Detective. I promise, you never have to see anything monstrous again.”

Chloe quickly rounded the counter and took hold of both his hands. “Lucifer, look at me. This isn’t about me. I don’t care what you look like or what your wings look like, you’re still my partner and I’m not giving up on you. Do you understand? I’m here to help and I’m here for the long run.”

“But they’re vile—”

“They don’t define you, Lucifer,” she repeated her words from the night before.

His eyes met hers, dark and unimaginably old. “I don’t want to be … someone to be feared. At least not anymore. Maybe I did once but—” He paused, frowning. “Do you think I’m evil, Chloe?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “No. I don’t.”

His irises suddenly blazed red but there was no anger in them. “Even though you know that this is who I am?”

Her heartbeat betrayed her calm demeanor but her voice stayed infallibly steady. “Especially because I know.” His expression smoothed into something akin to admiration and his eyes faded back to brown. “You okay?” she asked.

“I will be.”

“Will you talk to Linda? Tell her about all of this?”

He nodded hesitatingly. “I believe I will.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“They used to be white, you know. My wings, I mean. Luminous, really. They brightest in all of the Heavens. I was even proud of them once.” He chuckled self-depreciatingly. “I may hate what they represent at times but I admit to preferring the feathery menaces to these—” He rolled his shoulders with a grimace to make his point. “You would, too.”

Carefully, all the while gauging that she wasn’t overstepping, Chloe reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders. “I’m sure I’ll get to see them someday.”

Once more, he seemed stunned, lost for words even, which was rare for Lucifer Morningstar. He lifted his arms, then dropped them again. Then, “May I—may I hold you for a moment, Detective?”

His embrace was gentle, as if he feared he could break her, if he only held on a little tighter. Chloe thought he probably could but she felt safe in his arms, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She felt him relax bit by bit and when she let go of him, he smiled at her for the first time since the night before.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back. “I should probably be on my way, Detective.” He reached blindly for his discarded suit jacket. “If I want to catch Linda before her first patient, that is.”

“Call me, alright? Whenever you want.”

“As you wish, Detective.” He was already at the door, when he turned back once more. “Do stock up on better wine, when you go out for groceries. It’s unacceptable, if it comes from a box.”

“Did you drink my wine last night?”

“That’s not the point. The point is that it was subpar.”

“Right,” Chloe said, her grin challenging. “And what would be acceptable for you, good sir?”

He smirked. “I’ll bring you a bottle to go along with dinner tonight. If … if that’s alright?”

“That better be some damn fine wine.”

“Oh, it will be _so_ _damned_ fine.”

“Counting on it.”

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all she wrote.  
> Obviously, this doesn't really fit into the canon events of Season 4. It's just a little game of "what-if". The little pieces of dialogue that seem oddly familiar were taken from 4x09.


End file.
